


Only Three Days Gone

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bottom Sherlock, Cute, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Homecoming, Light Bondage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Sharing Clothes, Top John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 14:20:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/941008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John's been gone a few days for conference, coming home, he finds Sherlock's been 'borrowing' his sweaters.</p><p>Really guys, it's a bit more then half fluff. Adorable, sweet romantic fluff. Cute as a box of kittens. With smut on the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Three Days Gone

**Author's Note:**

> I was given the prompt to write about Sherlock stealing John’s sweaters in the winter by ibelonginthetardis over on tumblr.

John paid the cabbie with a sigh. Three days in Yorkshire for a conference in the dead of winter was no one’s idea of a good time. It was damn good to be home and he was looking forward to a warm cuppa and maybe some crap telly while Sherlock told him about whatever cases had come up. His own bed with a Sherlock in it would be nice too. The cold drizzle offered extra encouragement to head inside and up the steps.

Pushing open the familiar door, John, couldn’t help but smile as he shrugged his coat off. Sherlock was curled up on the couch, asleep, wrapped up in one of John’s favorite jumpers. Shaking his head and leaving him there, John stepped into the kitchen to put the kettle on, noticing another jumper on the back of one of the chairs. They had texted the entire time John had been gone, but it seemed maybe Sherlock had missed him more than he let on.

Heading upstairs to drop off his bag, John could see his bed had been slept in, covers thrown to the footboard. The dresser drawer stood open and several jumpers lay on the bed while a few were missing alltogether. “It was three days, Sherlock,” he said quietly to no one.

“I missed you,” Sherlock’s voice behind him made John jump. He turned and laughed at the sight of Sherlock standing in the doorway, swallowed up by the jumper that rode too high on his stomach.

He stepped closer to Sherlock and placed a warm hand on his exposed skin, pulling him down for a kiss. “I missed you too.”

Sherlock moaned softly into the kiss, nudging John at the bed. Chuckling, John broke the kiss to pick up the jumpers from the bed and toss them at the dresser. “Did you take all of them?”

“It’s been cold,” pouted Sherlock.

“Well come here,” John undid his shoes, leaving them on the floor and climbing into bed. Just then the kettle went off.

“I’ll get it,” promised Sherlock, vanishing back down the steps.

John waited patiently, soft smile on his face. He hadn’t ever thought they would be like this, but they’d each found something in the other that made them both better men. Three days wasn’t long, but it was long enough to remind him of what he had. Judging but what he’d seen, Sherlock felt the same way.

In a few minutes, Sherlock returned with two cups balanced precariously on a book. John chuckled as he glanced at the title. “You hate murder mysteries.”

“Predictable, always.” He smoothly got into bed with his makeshift tray, not spilling a drop. John took one cup while he took the other. Sherlock settled against the headboard. “Mrs. Hudson left it the other day. I am doing her a favor by not returning it.”

“Of course,” said John, sipping his tea and burying his feet under the blankets at the foot of the bed. He leaned over against Sherlock. The taller man kissed the top of his head and wrapped an arm around him, pulling John closer. Feeling warm and loved, John drained the last of his tea. Sherlock took it from him and set both cups on the end table.

John looked up at Sherlock and tugged him into another kiss, sliding his hands under the sweater. He laughed against Sherlock’s throat. “You look ridiculous, you know.”

“I was not wearing your jumper as a fashion statement. Nor do you,” he huffed.

Shifting to his knees, John kissed Sherlock’s nose, then took hold of the bottom of the jumper and tugged it over Sherlock’s head, dropping it to the floor. Sherlock shivered and whined until John moved to straddle his lap, leaning in to kiss him and tangling his hands in Sherlock’s hair as his heart filled to nearly bursting.

Breaking the kiss, Sherlock looked at John, love and desire in his eyes. John cupped his face, feeling the scruff under his hands. “Bet you didn’t leave the flat, did you?”

Sherlock shook his head. “Why bother?”

“You’re lucky Mrs. Hudson won’t let you starve when I’m not here.”

“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

John kissed his forehead. “You’re capable of surviving, yes.”

Grabbing his wrists, Sherlock looked intently into John’s eyes. “Without you, it _is_ mere survival.”

Silence stretched between them a long moment, then: “I love you too, Sherlock.” John leaned in and kissed him with all of his love and passion, Sherlock still clutching his wrists as if he would hold John’s heartbeat in his hands.

Sherlock finally let go of John’s wrists, tugging at his jumper. John pulled it over his head along with his t-shirt. Sherlock ran his hands up along John’s broad back, then slowly down his spine with just his fingers, as if counting every vertebrae. John leaned forward and nibbled on Sherlock’s throat, sucking on the pulse point until Sherlock moaned.

“You are always so warm, John,” Sherlock breathed when John let go of his throat. “I don’t understand why you wear the jumpers anyway.”

“They’re comfortable,” John nosed just under his chin. “And you’ve never complained before.”

“I have long since given up any attempt at changing your fashion sense.”

“Oi, now, no need to be cruel.” John bit his shoulder, wringing a small cry out of Sherlock as he rocked up against him.

John pressed down, grinding slowly against Sherlock. “I did miss you,” he said again, moving his mouth to Sherlock’s ear. “While you were nicking my jumpers, I was sleeping alone in my hotel bed, curled up around a pillow…and I borrowed something of yours too.”

Sherlock pulled away. “You did?”

John chuckled. Sherlock pushed John off his lap and went to his bag, still on the floor. Sherlock sat and tugged it open, pulling out clothes until he reached one of his own shirts. He fingered the satin and looked at John. Crawling to the edge of the bed, John flopped onto his stomach and rested his chin on his hands. “Looks like we had roughly the same idea. Only I didn’t try wearing it.”

“Put it on,” Sherlock thrust the shirt at him.

Raising an eyebrow, John shook his head. “There’s no way that’ll fit me.”

“Please?” Sherlock gave him the look John couldn’t resist.

Rolling his eyes, John took the shirt and sat up. “If I tear it, it’s not my fault.” He licked his lips and did his best to try and get the thing on. “Yeah, that’s not going to go over my shoulders.”

Sherlock tackled him, shoving John onto his back as he licked and bit at the skin where the shirt didn’t quite reach. John moaned and tried to reach for Sherlock but was restricted by the shirt. “Get this off me before I tear it.”

“John, I must find a reason to get you into a proper suit,” Sherlock purred, helping him get one arm free. John wrapped his hand around the back of Sherlock’s neck and pulled him into a warm kiss, sucking his bottom lip.

Moaning, Sherlock was caught off guard when John flipped them over. He pinned Sherlock’s arms with his knees and got the shirt the rest of the way off before grabbing Sherlock’s wrists and tying them up in the shirt. Sherlock rocked up against him. “Unfair.”

“Perfectly fair. You play dirty,” John smiled and kissed Sherlock deeply, carding his hair with one hand. He tugged Sherlock back to the headboard and made sure he was secured. Sherlock’s lips parted as he watched John, lust darkening his eyes. John loved Sherlock like this, vulnerable and delicious. He trailed kisses down Sherlock’s chest until he reached the waist of his pajama bottoms. Watching Sherlock’s face, he tugged them down and off, Sherlock’s erection straining at his pants.

John sat back a moment, just admiring the view. He shivered, and it wasn’t the chill winter air, it was Sherlock. Of course there had been relationships before, but he knew there would never be anyone after, not really. Nobody else could make him feel this way. He loved Sherlock with whole heart, and would always, no matter what came.

Whimpering and rocking his hips, Sherlock brought his attention back. “John,” he whined. “If you are going to stare I would much rather you untie me so that I could take care of a certain problem that seems to have arisen.” He thrust his hips pointedly.

“Problem?” John reached to tug down Sherlock’s pants. “Let me just have a look, then.”

Sherlock’s cock was already full, precome leaking from the tip. John leaned down and lapped up a drop, sending a rewarding shiver down Sherlock’s body. Watching Sherlock, John ran his tongue along the head before taking him into his mouth.

Moaning, Sherlock rocked up, tugging gently at his bonds. John pulled off after a few moments, earning another whimper. He leaned up and kissed Sherlock gently, then reached for the lube in the bedside drawer.  He started sucking on him again, taking him deep as he pressed his slicked fingers inside.

Sherlock writhed underneath him. John pulled off, panting and giving Sherlock a chance to recover as he continued fingering him. “So beautiful,” muttered John, leaning in to nip at Sherlock’s thigh while he scissored his fingers and added more lube.

“John,” Sherlock moaned his name and John raised his head. Sherlock watched him with hungry eyes. After the last few days of no physical contact, John was just as eager. He withdrew his fingers and quickly dropped his trousers and pants, crawling between Sherlock’s legs.

“I’m here, love,” he said softly, quickly preparing himself and lining up. Sherlock hissed and arched as John pressed himself in, pulling out a bit, then pressing deeper, slowly, carefully, working himself inside of Sherlock, until he was seated fully and Sherlock let go of a long low moan.

John adjusted Sherlock’s legs and leaned forward, planting on his hands on either side of Sherlock’s chest as he started moving with a steady rhythm. Sherlock groaned and threw his head to one side, burying his face against his arm.

“Don’t do that,” said John gently, tugging at his chin until Sherlock faced him again and opened his eyes. “I like to watch you.” John smiled and kissed Sherlock’s chest, moving faster. Sherlock’s eyes drifted closed again and he panted as he tried to match John’s rhythm with his hips.

Taking his hand from Sherlock’s chin, he dropped it to the man’s cock. Sherlock cried out and jerked as John wrapped a hand around him. “Shh, I have you.” John planted another kiss just above his heart.

John moved a little faster now, sweat standing out on his brow. Sherlock was coming undone below him, all incoherent sounds, eyes screwed tightly shut. Another tug and he came hard. John groaned as he felt him clench, rhythm stuttering as he came too, collapsing onto Sherlock’s chest, not even minding the sticky mess.

Reaching up, he blindly freed Sherlock’s wrists, then reached down and tugged the blanket over both of them. Sherlock smoothed his hair and planted a kiss on top of his head. John could feel the satisfied smile against his scalp. “I love you,” John mumbled, already falling asleep as his heart rate slowed.

Sherlock wrapped his arms around John and shifted him, tucking him up against his side, head pillowed on his shoulder. “I love you too.”

John nuzzled his shoulder, eyes closed, safe and warm. With Sherlock he was always safe, no matter the danger. Here was home, and family and love. It was all John had ever wanted.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to lokis_taking_gallifrey and unfunnybunny for all their love and support, and reading this and other fics while I'm writing them.
> 
> You can find me at [merindab.tumblr.com.](http://merindab.tumblr.com/)


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